Be careful what you wish for!

I walked out of the building after my third job interview in as many years and I got the call to say that I was unsuccessful. I was angry. I knew the three other candidates, all men and all less qualified than me. The only reason could be that I am a woman (bisexual woman).

On the way home, I decided that I was going to have a night in feeling sorry for myself with Netflix and a bottle of wine so stopped off at the local corner shop. I picked up the last bottle of red wine in the shop. It was very dusty and had an "olde-worlde" tatty label attached bearing some illegible text. It'll have to do, I thought, as I picked up a bag of salty snacks to go with it.

Feeling sorry for myself, I flopped in front of the telly and pulled the cork on the wine, which came away with a satisfying pop.

A couple of hours later, the film had finished and the bottle was empty. I was feeling very tipsy and tired as I staggered over to me bed.

In my drunken state I ran through the events of the day. "Fucking men!" I shouted to the empty room. "I wish I was one. Then I'd show 'em."

Then the room faded away as sleep overtook me. However, just as unconsciousness took me, I vaguely heard a distant deep voice say, "I am the genie of the bottle. Your wish is my command. Henceforth, you will be known as Barry."

Next morning, I was awakened by my alarm. "Fuck off, Alexa!" I shouted. Ooh, my voice is a bit gravely this morning. Must drink less wine. I scratched my face. That feels rough. Bloody wine again.

I rolled over onto my back and my hand fell across my chest.

"Aah! Where have my boobs gone!!?" I looked down to see my boobs had disappeared and been replaced by a fuzz of hair. OH NO!

I slowly lifted the bedsheet. AAAH! I've got a cock! And one with a full morning glory hard-on too! My last memory of the previous night came back to me.

I poked "THE THING" with a finger. It twitched and lurched with a mind of its own. I did it again. It lurched even more but wasn't unpleasant. I reached down and tentatively closed my hand around the shaft. Oh God, it's so hard, hot and throbby. How can it not have a bone in it? It throbbed even more as I tightened my grip. I'd never before held a cock in my hand without being taken to dinner first. It seemed the most natural thing to do to move my hand up and down the shaft. This felt really nice throbbing against my palm. This male anatomy is designed specifically for masturbation, I decided. The cock is perfectly placed for not having to stretch, it's at just the right angle and I can see what I'm doing.

I continued to move my hand up and down, enjoying the feeling. I tightened my grip. I used my free hand to check out what else was down there. Sure enough, two balls in a hairy sack. I clasped my hand around them. How strange, I can feel the sack moving around on its own. How does it do that? I pulled the skin on the shaft back as far as it would go, revealing an angry looking purple mushroom head. A touch on it nearly made me jump out of bed. Wow, that's sensitive! I continued to rub the shaft up and down. 

By now, I had figured out that I was either dreaming or some magic had taken me over. Either way, I needed to make the most of the situation. I rubbed and rubbed and the more I did it the better it felt. I could feel a hotness starting in the balls. I looked down at the slit in the tip as I felt like it was going to burst. At that moment, I could feel, on my palm, a little ripple run up the back of THE THING and at that moment my hips bucked forward uncontrollably and I was hit in the eye by a spurt of cum followed by further lunges of my hips and more cum falling on my belly. Wow, that was fun! Then the stinging in my eye started.

I lay there recovering from my first orgasm as a man and THE THING withered to a smaller, floppier version.

I went for a shower to clean myself up, still not feeling brave enough to look in the mirror. I dried myself off and went back to my bedroom where I saw myself in the full length mirror for the first time. Facially, I looked like a version of me as a man, like a male twin, I suppose. I have muscles but not overly rippling. A bit of body hair but not too much and then there's THE THING. Still floppy but as I looked at it, it started getting hard again. I held it and rubbed it and made various manly poses in front of the mirror. This is sooo much fun. It stood up all by itself! I pretended to be a man fucking a woman by thrusting my hips forward and back, watching THE THING bobbing about in the mirror. Then an idea hit me...I got some baby oil and coated my cock and palm with it. I wrapped my oiled hand around the shaft and keeping my curled hand fixed in one place, I thrust THE THING in and out of the makeshift wet cunt. Oh god that felt good. It made me want to thrust faster. I was fucking my fist so fast now and I could feel the cum rising again and with one big thrust and a grunt, SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! as cum spurted out onto the mirror.

I cleaned myself up, the mirror would have to wait as I needed to get to work. My ex had left some clothes in my wardrobe that would have to do.

I left my flat and on the landing I met my neighbour, Dawn. "Hi Barry", she cheerfully said. So people do know me as Barry. I think Dawn is lovely and as a woman she and I had a couple of drunken evenings together sharing raunchy secrets. She once told me about a threesome she had had with another couple and just remembering this made THE THING start to get hard. It was causing a very noticeable bulge in my trousers. It was rubbing hard against the fabric as I walked, making things worse. It felt nice but could prove to be embarrassing. I drove to work with some loud music to distract me from THE THING. I think I had it under control as I entered the office. "Morning, Barry," everyone said as I walked in. As I walked past the photocopier, I had to brush past Denise. Denise is beautiful with supermodel looks. I once shared a changing cubicle with her at the local swimming baths. She has perfect 36C boobs and carefully manicured bush and lovely big, flappy pussy lips. The memory of that day is in the top draw of my masturbation filing cabinet and, if the document was real, it would be very dog-eared, sticky and crusty. I have masturbated over her almost daily for months. As I walked past Denise, THE THING lurched to full hardness. Try as I might I could not hide the bulge from Denise. She looked down at the bulge, longer than some might consider polite, causing THE THING to twitch violent and moving the fabric with it. I apologised in my deep embarrassment as I passed. She simply smiled and brushed a hand over her breast, lingering a little too long over a nipple.

How do guys cope with this? I only have to touch THE THING and it gets hard. Once it's hard, I can't get it to go down again...unless.

What would I do if I needed relief as a woman? Rub one out in a toilet. So that's what I decided to do. My first visit to the gents toilet.

I opened the door not knowing what to expect. I saw a couple of guys standing at the urinals and there was a cubicle free which I dived into before anyone could see my bulge. I dropped my pants and sat down and started to rub. The vision of Denise in my mind meant I would cum quick. Sure enough, it didn't take many strokes before I was spraying cum against the back of the cubicle door. This was a little unexpected as, when I cum as a woman, I get a dribble of cum oozing out of my hole which is easy to clean up. This THING seems so out of control by comparison. Also, as a girl, when I cum, I can keep it to a whimper. As a guy, I haven't got full control over the voice and I have been growling loudly.

I cleaned myself up and the cubicle, walked past some guys giving me funny looks and returned to my desk.

I stayed at my desk as long as i could but couldn't help getting erections every 5 minutes whenever someone attractive walked past or I simply touched THE THING. After a while I needed to pee so I risked a quick walk to the toilets. My boss was standing at a urinal. I had no idea how this worked so I stood at the mirror and pretended to straighten my shirt and tie whilst watching him and others in the mirror. Right. Ready. I took a deep breath and walked up to the empty urinal next to my boss. I unzipped and reached inside my pants. Now, THE THING got semi-erect at my touch so I had difficulty pulling it out. When it eventually popped out, far more of it was visible than is decent. There was no mistaking that it was getting erect. I couldn't help myself from looking at my bosses little cock which made mine get to full erection, sticking proudly out of my trousers. The boss looked down at it, then at me, tutted and walked away. My cock was throbbing, my bladder was bursting but the pee wouldn't come. A boyfriend once told me about how he couldn't pee with a stiffy. Why don't they tell you these things in school?

By now the toilets were empty so I shuffled THE THING across to a cubicle and shot another load of cum before peeing. I'm beginning to see now why boys/men are always wanking...it's the only way to deal with an erection. So far THE THING was running my life and making all my decisions for me.

I walked back to my desk and stuck on my keyboard was a post-it note. On it was drawn a penis and hairy balls with two drops of cum coming out of the tip. underneath it was written "D xx."

To be continued....